Page 62 of Hate Game

I met her at the Walk for Cancer event at Delridge High’s track. She is in her mid-forties, has wavy, short brown hair and a friendly smile. She loves talking about the herbs she grows on her windowsill and is one of the grocery store cashiers.

I aim for his butt but miss, hitting the back of his leg instead. He yelps, and the sound echoes in the night. I smirk. It shouldn’t hurt badly enough from this distance for him to cry out like a little baby. The pain is more like a surprise flick on the skin. I know this from experience. Mason made me the target for one of his and his friends’ target practices.

Just like the first guy, this guy runs off.

I set my BB gun down and study the emptiness of the darkness with my chin resting on my crisscrossed arms.

“What did you do to get over her? Did you date other girls? Did you go looking for her? If you did, was seeing her again your closure?”

Another heavy sigh from Mason. “Yeah, I dated other girls. No one compared to her. After my enlistment was over, I found her through social media. Seeing her with another dude and a kid who looked like them gutted me.”

I can’t imagine what Mason must have gone through to lose his first love to someone else. And for her to have a baby with a different man other than him. No wonder he felt like his insides were ripped from his belly. I bury my face in my arms.

Tears prickle the corners of my eyes, and I let them fall beneath my ski mask and NVGs. My shoulders shake.

Mason smooths his hand over my hair again and again. “Don’t be sad for me, Spunk. It happened years ago.”

“But you hurt for so long.”

“Four years does seem like a lifetime, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” I mumble into my sleeve.

“Life goes on, Spunk. No matter how much we want to go back and change the past, what happened in our past is what makes us who we are today.”

“Have you fallen in love since?”

“Nah.”

“Because you haven’t found the right woman? Or is it because you scare them away with how muscular and tatted you are?”

Mason is six foot three with a full sleeve of ink on both arms, and his neck and chest are covered with tattoos. Add in a full beard and a fade-style haircut, and Mason would look great on the cover of an MC biker or Mafia romance novel.

“Areyouafraid of me?”

“I was deathly scared when we first met,” I admit.

Mason showed up super late to Isaac’s first neighborhood block party four years ago.

“But you bandaged me up so gently when I sliced my hand open and stayed with me when I passed out from seeing all that blood that I changed my mind.”

Mason laughs. “Fuck, I can’t believe you fainted at the slightest hint of red.”

Except for the one time when it mattered most. When I lost my virginity to Malice.

“Does that mean you faint during your time of the month?”

“Ew, TMI, but no. It was the pain on top of the blood gushing from the gash in my skin.” I shiver. The wound gaped so badly that I had to get stitches.

He strokes his chin. “That’s right. Colton hid his vape pen in a tight spot along with a razor blade, and you tried stealing his pen and got slashed.”

“Vaping is bad for his health, and since he’s one of Isaac’s best friends, I want to be sure he lives a long life.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Spunk. But as your big bro would say, ‘Colton is his own man.’”

I sigh. “I know, but?—”

“Hey, I understand this compulsion of yours to do good by doing harm, but at some point, you gotta find a different habit. One that doesn’t entail taking things from people, you know?”

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